wake

Angel watched in silence as Kieran set everything out, all that he'd promised. He made a point to pretend that it had all arrived on the table by its own violation, with no thanks as he snatched one of the bottles - Kieran hadn't skimped out.

He didn't want to seem too eager, god-forbid he came off as thankful, but he was undeniably zealous, he practically drained it in one go. It stung his throat, and he coughed and sputtered as it nearly came straight back up. He grimaced until it settled down into a warm buzz at the pit of his stomach and a thrilling dizziness in his head.

Angel glanced over to see Kieran by the door. He stared in tense silence a few moments. "Can you get me some water." He phrased it like a question, but it wasn't a question. It was like he'd forgotten how much it burned on the way down, after so long. He wiped his mouth with the back of a hand and peered into the take out box. He could smell the spice, and he was sure he'd choke if he didn't get something to drink it down with.

@kieran

Angel was starved - Nevada brought him food, homecooked, but nothing spicy and stinging, as if Angel needed to be treated gently. But he had already swallowed down a few bites of curry with similar enthusiasm, spices sticking in the back of his throat until he got his hands on the water. He fumbled off the cap and it rolled onto the floor while he gulped water. When he'd washed down the burn to something bearable, he scooped up more curry ravenously. In case a nurse came by, he wanted to get as much down as quickly as possible.

Eventually, he remembered Kieran, who hovered an uncomfortable distance between the door and the bed. Between the painkillers and the alcohol, Angel was feeling generous. "C'mere."

He beckoned with a hand, still stuck with IVs. Generosity, was it? Or maybe curiosity. Spite?

@kieran

With a mouthful of food, he stared up at Kieran, surveying the man while he chewed. His gaze was vaguely drunken, out of it, but sharpened considerably by anger, even if he was not as lucid as he might have seemed.

He swallowed, coughed a little and inhaled a hiss of a breath, savouring the burn in his mouth and down his throat.

Angel cocked his head at Kieran. He looked like a kicked puppy, like his bitch, and that was a little comfort, the silver lining.

"Hey, what happened to your eye?" Maybe Kieran had told him already before. Maybe he hadn't - Angel didn't remember and he didn't really care. "Like what's the, the, the..." He motioned to his own eye, giving up on remembering the evasive word. "What's it for, even?" He hadn't really waited for an answer before he reached up to see for himself.

His groping fingers had almost managed to hook onto it, but Kieran backed out of his reach, Angel's slow and clumsy movements. His hand dropped heavily into his lap, disappointment washing over his face, though it was a petulant, irritated sort.

He wasn't sure why he cared. Maybe he needed something to make himself feel better about it. Angel just raised a brow, deciding that Kieran deserved whatever had happened to him. He watched with fascination as Kieran undid the eyepatch and pushed his hair aside.

Angel had no reason to be polite, no reason to pretend he wasn't disgusted. He wrinkled his nose and he averted his eyes, only to have them fix back on the mess of skin and scar where Kieran's eye should have been. He leaned in for a closer look, scrutinized it. It was ugly, and that was comforting. Angel knew his face was still scratched up and scabbed, but he was sure it would fade, he was sure it wouldn't be that bad. It felt like it was there to mark Kieran as a bad person, to remind him of it. "Gross."

@kieran

He was just kicking Kieran while he was down, Angel knew, but he was the one stuck on bedrest, and he looked for satisfaction any place he could find it, in as petty ways as he could manage. Angel watched from the corner of his eye, back to gourging on curry and vodka while Kieran righted his eye patch.

When Kieran spoke up, Angel's attention flickered back to him. He licked his lips, considering Kieran coldly. "Why are you so eager to get out of here?" Angel said, tone sour as curdled milk. "Must suck, being stuck in a hospital room."

Really, Kieran could just walk out. Angel had no way of forcing him to stand there and take his abuse, to sneak him the things he wanted. But his guilt had been enough to get him here for that first unsolicited visit, and Angel could only hope it would be enough to keep him here now.

@kieran

Angel watched Kieran, who barely seemed able to meet his eyes. Insecurity welled up - he was ugly, he was broken and nothing to look at anymore, and Angel gritted his teeth and drew in a deep breath. It was just as bad when people did look at him. He didn't have visitors, he didn't want anybody to see him like this. It wasn't beautiful or glamorous, and that was the only way people liked Angel.

He knocked back more of the vodka, licking his lips as he felt the bold heat of it flare up in his chest. "So are you going to jail now?" He asked, no sympathy, no softness. "You could have killed me."

@kieran